


Curiosity Killed the Cat (And Satisfaction Brought it Back)

by SecretMaker



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Happy birthday Ezzy I got you supposedly unrequited pining, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8604685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretMaker/pseuds/SecretMaker
Summary: Morisuke has known for years that he's got a big, dumb, stupid crush on his big, dumb, stupid captain. It's fine. He can handle it.(He can't handle it)Written for my precious EzzyDean's birthday.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY EZZY

If there was one thing Yaku Morisuke could say for himself it was that he was very good at resigning himself to his fate. Oh sure, there could be some grumbling along the way, and whenever Lev was involved some violence too, but he could accept whatever the world put him through. He could take whatever setbacks it gave him, and he could be okay.

 

“I will never be okay again.” Kenma only blinked at Morisuke and went back to his game. Kai, on the other hand, reached out to pat Morisuke’s shoulder as he passed on his way to his locker.

 

“What happened this time?” he asked. Morisuke glanced up from his palms and groaned then buried himself in them again.

 

“He did that thing where he smiled, and it was a real smile, not that stupid smirk where he’s trying to look cool.” Kai hummed in commiseration, too busy pulling his shirt off to give a proper answer. “And then he had the gall, the _audacity_ to look at me while he was doing it,” Morisuke continued. “All crinkle-eyed and bright. What gives him the right?”

 

“Oh, don’t be such a grumpy old man,” Kai laughed. “You know you don’t really hate it.”

 

“No one asked you, Nobuyuki,” Morisuke muttered.

 

“No one asked you for your gross pining,” Kenma said. Morisuke grunted and shook himself, standing to dig his own clothes out of his locker. Just as he did, the door slammed open and Kuroo burst in, looking sheepish over his loud entrance. He closed the door more quietly then wandered into the locker room, humming as he went. Morisuke tuned it out as well as he could, but the fact was Kuroo had a nice voice and Morisuke really liked to listen to it. He scowled as he pulled on his slacks and reached in for his jacket, only to stop short.

 

“Where’s my jacket?” he asked, hunting through his bag for it.

 

“You didn’t have it when you came in,” Kai replied. Morisuke groaned.

 

“The school’s locked already,” he muttered. “Great.”

 

“Here.” A field of crimson filled Morisuke’s vision. He looked up to see Kuroo smiling down at him, holding out his own jacket. “I’ve got my sweater, and you live farther away than me.” Morisuke narrowed his eyes, but took the jacket anyway.

 

“What’s the catch?” he asked.

 

“No catch,” Kuroo replied, just as Morisuke unfolded the jacket and frowned at how massive it was. Kuroo was several sizes bigger than him, and it showed.

 

“Not a word,” he muttered as he pulled it on. It fell to his knees and the sleeves hung several inches past his fingertips and Kenma was smirking and Kai was snickering and Kuroo wisely busied himself having no reaction whatsoever. Morisuke rolled up the sleeves as well as he could and zipped the jacket up to his throat. He grabbed his bag and marched out of the locker room without another word.

 

“See you tomorrow, Yakkun!” called Kuroo, his voice cracking with the first signs of a laugh. The familiar donkey-braying followed Morisuke out onto the stairs and he took a moment to be grateful that he could blame his blush on the cold. He turned up the path to the station and pretended he wasn’t drowning in warmth that smelled faintly of deodorant and vanilla and cinnamon.

 

“Why the fuck does he smell like a fucking bakery who the fuck gave him the right to do that fuck him and fuck his stupid fucking hair and his stupid fucking smile and his stupid fucking-”

 

“YAKU-SAAAAAAAAAAAAN!” Morisuke broke off his angry muttering at the sound of six feet of boisterous Russian barreling toward him. Morisuke stepped quickly to one side and let Lev skid to a stop.

 

“Yes, Lev?” he sighed. Lev grinned down at him.

 

“Why’re you wearing Kuroo-san’s jacket?” he asked. “It’s so big on you! You look like a little kid!” Morisuke shot Lev a glare and restrained the urge to knee him in the groin - and _yes,_ he could reach that high, thank you very much.

 

“I’m wearing his jacket because I forgot my sweater,” he explained through gritted teeth. “Now, if I remember correctly, you live _that way._ ” He pointed back the way they had come.

 

“Oh yeah!” Lev shouted, then started rooting around in his pockets. He held out a carefully folded stack of papers with a proud grin. “Kuroo-san told me to give you these.” Morisuke frowned, unfolding the papers to reveal his chemistry notes from a couple days prior.

 

“Thanks,” Morisuke said. “Why didn’t he give these to me himself?”

 

“He said he forgot until right after you left,” Lev replied. “He also said he fixed them for you.”

 

“He _what_?” snapped Morisuke, glaring at the pages. Sure enough, there were little bits of writing in Kuroo’s obnoxiously neat hand here and there in the margins. Morisuke took a deep breath and folded the notes, tucking them into the pocket of his borrowed jacket. “Thank you, Lev,” he said. “I’ll see you at morning practice.” With that he turned, leaving Lev gaping in his wake.

 

It wasn’t until he got home and into his room that he remembered the notes again. The walk to and from the station and the ride between had been too full of Morisuke trying and failing to resist the urge to bury his nose in the sweet-smelling jacket. He threw himself onto the bed, readying himself to bury himself in the covers and forget he existed when the crinkle of paper caught his ear. He fished out the notes and opened them up, pulling away the sticky note that read _Thanks again for this, Yakkun!_ He set that on his nightstand and started flipping through the pages themselves.

 

The thing about Kuroo was that he really didn’t need help in school. Ever. He was known to correct teachers on their computation as well as their theory, and his notes were so perfect they made Morisuke angry. But when Kuroo had called in sick that Monday, he had asked Morisuke for the chemistry notes, saying that his were the only ones Kuroo trusted to be accurate.

 

And yet, the pages were full of little corrections. Morisuke snorted and shook his head, wondering why he had ever believed he could measure up. He flipped a page at random, glancing at the notation Kuroo had left behind.

 

_Are you made of Copper and Tellurium? Because you are Cu-Te._

 

Morisuke stared at the note, trying to form a coherent thought over the blank static in his mind. He pretended his face wasn’t flushed and his hand wasn’t trembling slightly as he flipped to the next page. The first note on that one was a correction of his spelling, but just under that, Kuroo had written _I wish I were Adenine because then I could get paired with U._ It was honestly the worst pick up line Morisuke could imagine, and yet-

 

And yet here he was blushing into his hands because it was also honestly the cutest thing that he had ever witnessed. Morisuke shook his head and threw the pages to the end of his bed, grabbing his phone and opening a conversation with Kuroo.

 

ME: [Kuroo, why the fuck did you write all over my notes?]

 

The response came so quickly that the buzz of his phone made Morisuke yelp.

 

CAPTAIN ASSHOLE: [What do you do with a sick chemist?]

 

ME: [Kuroo what do you want]

 

CAPTAIN ASSHOLE: [Well, if you can’t helium and you can’t curium, you’ll probably have to barium]

 

CAPTAIN ASSHOLE: [Get it?]

 

CAPTAIN ASSHOLE: [Get it, Yakkun?]

 

CAPTAIN ASSHOLE: [Yakkun?]

 

CAPTAIN ASSHOLE: [I get the feeling that you’re mad at me, which is probably fair, but before you resort to violence, just remember that you love me, okay?]

 

Morisuke dropped his phone and slumped into his pillow, groaning into the fabric. It wasn’t fucking fair. Kuroo was smarmy and attractive and smart and a top-notch athlete. He didn’t get to be cute too, that simply wasn’t allowed. Morisuke closed his eyes and ordered himself to think of nothing until his sister called him down to dinner.

 

-

 

Morisuke was pissed. His jacket hadn’t been at his desk where he was sure he had left it, nor was it in the lost-and-found in the faculty office, nor was it in the club room or any other place he could think of. The day was chilly, the March sunlight nowhere near enough to fight off the crisp breeze, and Morisuke was stuck walking around in Kuroo’s jacket again. The whole team had gone out of their way to tease him for it, and he was _this close_ to throwing the damn thing in the trash, no matter how warm it was or how good it smelled. He didn’t think this day could get any more irritating when lunch arrived and Kuroo slid into the seat in front of Morisuke’s with a grin.

 

“What.” gritted Morisuke.

 

“So hostile!” Kuroo cried, laying a hand over his heart. “I just wanted to spend time with my good friend Yakkun.” Morisuke rolled his eyes and pretended he didn’t like that nickname so much.

 

“You always have an ulterior motive,” he muttered. Kuroo gasped.

 

“I’m wounded!” he said. “Truly, Yakkun, your lack of trust in me hurts.”

 

“Good,” muttered Morisuke. He glared down at his bento, so focused on it that he was caught completely off guard by the gentle brush of warm fingertips across his cheek.

 

“Hold still,” Kuroo murmured. His hand swerved up into Morisuke’s hairline, then all at once it was gone and Kuroo was shaking lint off of his fingers. “Got it,” he said with a grin. He looked up at Morisuke and frowned. “Are you okay? You’re all red.”

 

“I’m fine,” Morisuke snapped, shoving a piece of beef into his mouth and chewing angrily. Kuroo shrugged and started eating his own bento, a big, dumb smile on his face. Morisuke scowled and pretended he didn’t exist.

 

It wasn’t until class had begun and Kuroo had moved back to his own seat that Morisuke noticed the piece of paper tucked into the collar of his shirt. He pulled it out with a frown.

 

_You_ _’re going to hate me for saying this, but you really look cute in that jacket._

 

Morisuke glared across the room at the back of Kuroo’s head, watching the way his shoulders went tense. Slowly, carefully, Kuroo turned to meet Morisuke’s gaze. He bit his lip and turned his face back forward, clearly scared. Morisuke nodded to himself, satisfied with the reaction. He focused back on his schoolwork and pushed all other thoughts out of his head.

 

-

 

Fridays were special days for Morisuke, because Fridays were the days Kuroo spent the first half of practice studying for his entrance exams and left Morisuke and Kai in charge of the team. Two blissful hours of no smirky, bedheaded captain strutting about in the corner of Morisuke’s vision, distracting him just by existing. Morisuke breathed easy for the first time all day.

 

“You know, you will have to talk to him eventually,” Kai said as they oversaw blocking practice.

 

“I do not,” Morisuke replied. “I am perfectly capable of living out the remainder of my days as though I never had any sort of romantic inclination toward anyone at all. As far as anyone has to know, I don’t have a crush.”

 

“What’s that about a crush?” The voice of Morisuke’s nightmares rang out through the gym as Kuroo strode over and threw his arm around Morisuke’s shoulders. “Yakkun, do you have a crush on someone?”

 

“No!” snapped Morisuke, ducking out from under Kuroo’s arm and jogging across the gym under the guise of setting up to practice his block follows. He could hear Kuroo asking Kai in a wounded voice if he’d done anything to offend Morisuke, and Kai assuring him that he was fine. Morisuke groaned to himself and returned to his daily routine of pretending not to exist.

 

-

 

On Monday, Morisuke walked into the locker room after practice, well after most of the rest of the team had gone home. Kenma was loitering outside the door, playing on his phone and studiously ignoring Lev and Yamamoto nearby. Morisuke gave him a smile and a pat on the shoulder as he passed, ready to go home and straight to bed.

 

He should have realized that it had been a sign. A last ditch effort from the universe to save him from his doom. Kenma and Kuroo lived next door to each other, so of course he would have waited for the captain before going home. If Kenma was still there, then it was obvious that Kuroo would be too. But Morisuke pushed open the door to the locker room without thinking, only to stop dead in his tracks.

 

Kuroo was in the shower, which wasn’t that unusual. He was around a corner, so it wasn’t even like Morisuke was confronted with the sight of him naked and dripping wet and-

 

No, the problem was that Kuroo was in the shower, _singing._

 

Morisuke had never heard him sing before.

 

He had a nice voice, low and rich and just a little gravely. The song was English, so Morisuke only understood a couple words here and there, but the tone came across perfectly well. Kuroo was singing like he was offering his heart and soul up, like he was laying them at the feet of a lover and doing it with utter adoration dancing in his soul.

 

Morisuke turned on his heel and stormed out of the locker room.

 

It wasn’t fucking fair. It wasn’t okay that Morisuke had to deal with this- this _infatuation_ , that he had been lugging it around with him for the past two years while Kuroo just went about his business, blithely crashing through all of Morisuke’s walls and-

 

Morisuke stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and screamed into his palms.

 

-

 

On Tuesday, Morisuke walked into the locker room before practice, well before anyone else on the team arrived. He crossed to his locker and pulled out his practice clothes methodically, stepping into them as if he were on autopilot. As he turned to go, a flash of red out of the corner of his eye made him pause.

 

There was a jacket sleeve hanging out of Kuroo’s locker. It took him a moment to figure out why that struck him as wrong, but then he remembered. Kuroo’s jacket was in Morisuke’s locker, still on loan because Morisuke’s own was missing. Morisuke walked over to the locker, opening it slowly. He had to lunge to catch the pile of red fabric that tumbled out.

 

It was Morisuke’s. Of course it was Morisuke’s. But it didn’t make sense. And when Morisuke pulled it on, it didn’t smell like his detergent or the fruity perfume his sister had spilled on it the week before. It smelled like cinnamon and vanilla.

 

The door to the locker room opened and Kenma and Kuroo walked in, the former ignoring the latter’s chatter. They both stopped at the sight of Morisuke, standing in front of Kuroo’s open locker with his jacket wrapped around him.

 

“Busted,” said Kenma with a snicker, melting back through the door. Morisuke watched him go, then turned to face Kuroo, unspoken question written across his face.

 

“Oh yeah,” Kuroo said weakly. “I was gonna give that to you yesterday, but I forgot. I found it, in the- in the storage closet.”

 

“Kuroo,” Morisuke said softly. Kuroo trailed off, his face going red, and Morisuke made his decision. “Kuroo come here.”

 

“Are you going to hurt me?” Kuroo laughed, even as he stepped forward. Morisuke frowned up at him, reaching out to tangle his fingers in the collar of Kuroo’s sweater. He pulled him down, watching the fear and the something-else that dilated Kuroo’s pupils. Then Morisuke’s eyes were closing and he was pressing their lips together.

 

It wasn’t incredible. It wasn’t the chorus of thousands of angels or the crescendo of symphonies. It was a breath of relief, off-center and wet and nearly silent. Morisuke pulled away, opening his eyes to see the shock and terror on Kuroo’s face, almost hidden beneath a glazed-over bliss. Morisuke stroked his cheek with a thumb, biting his lip, and then let him go. He took the opportunity he had, with Kuroo standing stock-still and stunned, to dart under his arm and make a break for the door. He threw himself against it, only to bounce off again.

 

“Kenma!” Morisuke shouted, pounding on the door with his fist. “Kenma, unlock it!”

 

“Sorry, Yaku,” called Kai. “Kenma walked away with the key. I sent Lev to find him.” Morisuke groaned and slumped against the door.

 

“Kai, I thought we were friends,” he whimpered.

 

“We are,” Kai said. “You’ll be fine.” And then Kai was gone, his footsteps fading away from the door.

 

“Yakkun.” Morisuke stiffened, raising his fist to beat uselessly once more against the door. “Morisuke.”

 

The use of Morisuke’s given name was like an electric shock. He’d heard Kuroo say it before of course, when introducing him to someone or listing him off of the roster, but never alone, never without his family name, and never so _intimately_. Morisuke’s shoulders drooped and he turned slowly, eyes dragging along the floor in their reluctance to meet Kuroo’s eye.

 

“Please don’t,” Morisuke whispered. Kuroo made a soft, questioning noise, his head cocking to the side like a confused puppy. The sight was a new ache in Morisuke’s heart. “Can we just pretend that didn’t happen?” Morisuke pleaded. “I don’t- I don’t want to lose you over this.”

 

“Why would you lose me?” Kuroo murmured. “Yakkun, I don’t understand.”

 

“No,” Morisuke sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I suppose you don’t. Look, just, forget it okay? It never happened.” Kuroo was silent for a moment.

 

“I don’t want to,” he breathed. Morisuke looked up to see Kuroo staring at him, eyes sharp and determined in the way they got when faced with a strong opponent or a particularly complex equation. Morisuke shivered under the look.

 

“Kuroo-”

 

“Look, if you didn’t mean it, then that’s fine, we can go back to how it was,” Kuroo said. “But if you did mean it, and I really hope you did, then I’m not going to let you run away from this. I can’t.”

 

“Kuroo, I don’t need your pity,” Morisuke muttered. Kuroo groaned, clutching at his hair with both hands.

 

“I’m not pitying you!” he cried. “Jeez, Yakkun, I’ve been trying to tell you-” He cut off and turned around, slapping his hands over his eyes. “I’m not good at this, okay?” he whined, still facing away from Morisuke. “I tried flirting with you, and it just made you angry. I tried being your friend, and that’s been great, incredible even, but then that was all you seemed to want. So I tried accepting it and moving on, but I _can_ _’t_ , Yaku, I can’t just act like everything you do doesn’t make me want to kiss you, or run my fingers through your hair or make you laugh or just _stare_ at you for hours, because you’re the most attractive person I’ve ever seen and-” Kuroo made a long, high-pitched noise that sounded like all the despair and self-loathing and frustration Morisuke had been feeling for the past two years. And in spite of everything, Morisuke laughed.

 

“God, you’re just as bad as me, aren’t you?” he groaned. Kuroo sighed and dropped his hands. He stood straight and still for a moment, then turned to face Morisuke with a sheepish look on his face. “So, what now?”

 

“What now, what?” Kuroo asked. Morisuke glared at him.

 

“I mean, what now,” he snapped. “What happens now? The rest of the year is one thing, but what happens when we graduate? We’re going to different universities, Kuroo.”

 

“Well, that’ll be the fun part,” Kuroo said with a shrug. “We get to figure stuff out as we go.”

 

“That sounds like the opposite of fun,” Morisuke grumbled. A slow, wide grin dawned on Kuroo’s face, and then all at once he was throwing his head back and laughing. Morisuke tried to keep his own face straight, but he couldn’t help it; Kuroo was too damn cute. Morisuke laughed along.

 

“You should keep the jacket,” Kuroo said, several minutes later when they emerged from the locker room, trying to hide their disheveled clothes and the way Kuroo’s hair looked even messier than normal.

 

“Why would I want to keep your nasty jacket?” Morisuke asked. Kuroo flushed and looked away.

 

“No reason,” he said. “Nothing at all to do with how cute you look in it.” Morisuke rolled his eyes.

 

“You have to at least take it home for now,” he said. “It doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

 

“It what?”

 

“You heard me.”

 

“Yakkun-”

 

“Damn it!” They both stopped dead at the threshold of the gym, staring at Yamamoto. He glared at them, then turned to shout at Kai. “That means my sister wins the pot!”

 

“ _What_ pot?” snarled Morisuke. Yamamoto turned white and shook his head, backing away quickly. Kuroo chuckled and settled a hand on Morisuke’s shoulder.

 

“Let him go,” he said. “You can get him back later.” Morisuke glanced up at Kuroo, feeling the warmth that flooded his cheeks and his chest at the sight of that smile, and nodded. There were better things to focus on.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://notushcasecret.tumblr.com)


End file.
